The Devil's Angel
by Brewing Glory
Summary: The war has ended, but one side has deemed its results unsatisfying enough to attempt to alter history—and it's not the Dark side. When a bitter member of the Light goes back in time to kill Voldemort as a child, Hermione is given a task she never dreamed she would receive in order to preserve the future: protect Tom Riddle at all costs.


**Author's Note: Tomione. Hope you enjoy. Not sure when I'll update, but it'll happen eventually. I just wanted this up because I wanted to write another time travel story that's a bit darker than the ones I have written currently. Oh, and if it wasn't obvious, AU.**

 **Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.**

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Hermione Granger never considered herself to be particularly religious. But today seemed as good a day as any to start.

She hummed softly, a sad smile on her face as she lit the small candles on the dinner table. She paused for only a second to look at the now illuminated picture, fighting back tears even as the figures in the photo smiled, waving cheerily at her. She tore her eyes from the looping scene with a shuttering breath, moving to the seat at the opposite end of the table.

It was quiet for a few moments, her eyes now glued to a spot on the wall just above the photo. It felt like hours before she finally spoke, and with how muddled her brain felt, it very well could have been.

"Things are getting better," she said weakly, grimacing at how pathetic she sounded, but in no hurry to change it. She continued just as pathetically, "more or less. It's a little hard to tell, but everything's been quiet—I think it's safe to say we've managed to capture most, if not all, of the Death Eaters.

"Hogwarts has been rebuilt. It's newer, and cleaner, and— _not the same_. But it's a start.

"Kingsley has screened all Ministry employees, and they've been working on rewriting and altering a bunch of old laws. I've been helping with magical creatures' rights," this Hermione said with a small smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"No one— It's gloomy. The air. It's like, we're doing all of these things to prepare for a better future, but we can't stop clinging to the past. Myself included, obviously." Hermione snorted, giving the photo a pointed look.

"I just... I miss you both. Harry, Ron... Sometimes I feel like I can't move on without you two here. But I'm trying. It's just hard. It doesn't help that I still haven't found my parents and the rest of the Weasleys have almost completely isolated themselves from the rest of the world.

"It's been a _long_ year," Hermione sighed. She leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling.

She wondered what she'd be doing right now if Harry and Ron had survived the war. She'd be happier, that's for sure, with her boys by her side. They'd be gathered at the Burrow, remembering all that had been lost, and celebrating what was gained. She'd probably be leaning against Ron, assuming their relationship worked out, and Harry would be on her other side, Ginny on his lap. Mrs. Weasley would've made a huge and delicious feast, and the twins would've been trying to cheer everyone else up.

But most importantly, they'd all be together. They'd be whole, not broken and scattered as they were, with the Weasley's hidden in the Burrow, and her alone in Grimmauld Place.

Hermione jolted, startled when a shout sounded from the fireplace. She scrambled out of her chair, hurrying to see what was so important.

"I need you here, now!" Kingsley barked, his head disappearing from the fireplace a second later.

Hermione didn't hesitate, grabbing a handful of floo powder, and disappearing with a confident shout of, "Minister's office!"

Kingsley was pacing, a pair of Unspeakables speaking to him in low and urgent tones. When she appeared, his eyes snapped to hers immediately, nodding his head in acknowledgement.

"What is it? What's wrong?" She asked, just now noticing the alarm going off in the background.

"I have a mission for you," he told her solemnly, motioning for her to sit. "As you're aware, not everyone is happy about how the war turned out."

Hermione nodded, a feeling of dread washing over her.

"Someone's broken into the Department of Mysteries and stolen our newest Time Turner," Kingsley said, right to the point.

"Death Eaters?" Hermione gasped.

"No," he said, much to her surprise. "Ginevra Weasley was seen leaving around the time we noticed the Time Turner missing. We suspect she had inside help, as a number of employees disappeared as the alarms went off."

"What? Why would she need a Time Turner? And why did you even make _more_?"

"After you destroyed all of the other Time Turners, the Unspeakables took it upon themselves to do a little more experimenting with the Sands of Time," he glared at the other two in the room, reminding Hermione that they were still there.

"We told you, it was under orders of the last Minister, and he required the utmost secrecy—" one of them, a woman, protested.

"And I told you that I don't care what Scrimgeour said, if it weren't for him, we wouldn't be in this mess," Kingsley interrupted, effectively shutting her up. "As I was saying, these particular Time Turners were designed to go as far back as a century. Now, as for what Miss Weasley and her cohorts are after, I'd wager a guess that it has something to do with Voldemort himself. They probably plan to kill him at his most vulnerable. Stop the war from happening."

Hermione had to bite her tongue to stop herself from asking if that was really such a bad thing. However, her thoughts must have shown on her face, as he shook his head disapprovingly at her, Hermione feeling shame pool in her stomach at the look in his eyes.

"Granger, we don't know what that could do to the timeline. For all we know, a wizard of even more power and influence could rise, what with Voldemort out of the picture. At least if Voldemort comes into power, we know we come out on top. We have no idea what would happen if it were someone else."

"Better the devil you know, huh?" Hermione muttered, and Kingsley nodded in agreement.

"Glad you understand. Now, to the point of this impromptu meeting: Weasley and her people forgot something. My guess is that none of them were actually Unspeakables, or at least not ones in on the Time Turner project, otherwise they wouldn't have messed up like this," Kingsley said, then motioned for the male Unspeakable to explain.

"The Time Turner was made as part of a duo. The first prototype was too strong—we couldn't get it to land on a specific time. It would miss the mark by years. So, we split it into two, making it more accurate, but always taking the second with it. These rebels forgot the second," the Unspeakable spoke, pulling out a chain. At the end hung a time turner, but the sand was green. "Since we still have it here, I'd say the rebels are still trying to figure out how to use it."

"I'm failing to see how this involves me."

"We need you to stop Weasley from succeeding in whatever her mission is. You will take this Time Turner, and when she jumps, she'll take you with her. If she tries to kill Tom Riddle, you will stop her. If she jumps to try again, you will stop her again. When the opportunity comes, I need you to swap Time Turners and bring both of you back. You must be as discreet as possible to avoid messing with the future accidentally."

"You _actually_ want me to protect Tom Riddle?!" she exclaimed, both bewildered and repulsed at the idea.

"To protect the timeline, yes," he said impatiently. "This is about making sure that the future is as close to what it was meant to be as possible. I chose you because I believed you to be the most capable of putting aside your issues and doing what was right. In addition, you are more than powerful enough to take down Weasley and you already have experience in time travel. Was I wrong, Granger? Or can you handle yourself professionally and protect Tom Riddle at all costs? Can I trust you to preserve the future with everything you have?"

Hermione knew she was being manipulated, Kingsley was obviously no Slytherin, but no matter how she tried to convince herself otherwise, her answer remained the same.

"I'll do it."

She had the strangest feeling that she had just sold her soul to the devil.


End file.
